


No Loopholes

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: (literally), FC Bayern München, First Kiss, Implied Sexual Content, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Manu being a Stubborn Asshole, Partying so there's Mentions of Alcohol, Pining, Supportive Thomas, Walk Of Shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 06:28:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12426900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: Bayern wins trophies, it’s not as sneered at as it is expected. The celebratory beer tastes great and so do fumbled kisses in sweaty jerseys, but Manu still pretends he doesn’t know how he ends up waking up next to Thomas. Fortunately, while there might be some things you can ignore, there are a lot fewer things you can ignore forever.





	No Loopholes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [astromena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/astromena/gifts).



> This was originally supposed to be a short, quick thing for a summary Frauke wrote for me for an [ask meme.](http://lahmly.tumblr.com/post/164945279307/fic-youll-never-write-no-loopholes-my-faves) It ended up being neither short nor quick, but I hope I managed to stick to the general idea of it ^^
> 
> Also, I wanted to finish this as a birthday gift for Ximena; but alas I am already more than a week late – sorry for being a mess, but I hope you enjoy this still! ♥
> 
> A giant thank you so so much to [Khalehla](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Khalehla) – you're the absolute best. Ever.

It felt like a loud mix of colours and noise, like happiness and all-encompassing pride and a weird sense of relief. (It hadn’t been easy, this season. Not on anyone, not this time. He supposed they all felt more than a year older now, as they put their sweat and tears and their everything into winning, into losing, into reaching for the stars. They made it, as they should, as they were expected to. But it hadn’t been easy.)

Manu was drunk, probably, but at this point he couldn’t even tell if it was the alcohol or the adrenalin that was making him feel dizzy, making his head spin and his grin spread even wider. Someone pushed another one of those ridiculously sweet drinks into his hands, and he downed it before he noticed that it wasn’t beer.

Some of his teammates were singing, very out of tune and very loudly, and the dancefloor was only just starting to fill up. Most of them (himself included) were pretty horrible dancers – there was a reason they only used their legs and feet to kick around a ball, after all – but after enough alcohol, pretty much everyone started bobbing their heads in tune to the music before getting up and joining the party. Manu was hovering at the edge of the moving crowd, swaying back and forth, too far gone to make out individual faces, everything blurring together in the low light of the room.

Still, he recognized the hand that suddenly appeared on his shoulder (would recognize it always) giving it a squeeze that was probably supposed to be gentle but left hot fingerprints under Manu’s skin.

Thomas’ grin was crooked as always, but so blinding that it made Manu’s breath hitch in his throat. He didn’t resist, couldn’t, as the younger man first chastised him for standing around on his own then pushed him straight onto the dancefloor, cheering at the top of his lungs as they joined the others. Manu felt laughter bubbling up in his chest as he watched Thomas dance in that dorky, endearing way, a happiness that couldn’t be contained. He didn’t dare contemplate why his mind was so focused on his friend even, or especially, in this state.

Later, there were more drinks (and he didn’t even register the taste of it this time, didn’t realize he’d spilt half of it over his brand new shirt), more dancing, more colours. The music got louder and wilder, his mind fuzzier by the second.

He remembered losing sight of Thomas’ curly mop of hair for a while, until he was suddenly there again, toothily smirking up at him, grabbing his hand and tugging him along. Manu didn’t remember how they ended up in the hallway, the noise of the party only an afterthought though the bass of the music was still vibrating through the walls, or how he ended up with his back against the wall, head thrown back, laughing, Thomas supporting himself on the wall next to him, cackling quietly. Manu didn’t remember how they were suddenly face to face, his heart beating in his throat.

Suddenly, memories flared up, of a dark, hidden corner in the locker room, Manu’s jersey sticking to his back, Thomas’ skin wet underneath his fingertips. A hasty, fumbled kiss tasting of sweat and grass.

Later, he’d claim he didn’t remember that it was him who had leaned in first this time, trying to catch those captivating lips with his own, Thomas’ hot breath in his mouth. That he couldn’t recall how Thomas’ hands came up to gently, insistently, rub his sides before grabbing hold first of his hips and moments later onto the swell of his ass. That he couldn’t remember how they’d found their way up to Thomas’ hotel room, unable to keep their hands off each other for even a second, leaning onto each other for support, giggling and dropping kisses on noses, cheeks, necks or shoulders, because they weren’t able to walk in a straight line, always missing each other’s mouths.

He’d claim he didn’t remember how he’d let himself be pushed onto the bed, or Thomas’ wicked grin as he crawled over him.

 

The next morning felt like a hammer blow.

Manu blinked, eyelids heavy. The first thing that registered was a soaring pain ripping through his brain like a machete. The second thing was the arm slung around his waist and the body pressed against his back, soft breath hitting his neck. It took him a moment to remember, his memory coming back to him in bits and pieces. There were holes, but the reality of what had happened last night, what he’d allowed to happen, was still as clear and bright and blinding as the pale summer morning he could make out outside the window.

Thomas’ left hand until seconds ago had been resting on his stomach, leaving behind an invisible handprint as Manu removed the arm that was still hugging him close; carefully, so that he didn’t wake the younger man up. He held his breath when he quietly turned around, facing his friend – or whatever else they were to each other, after this.

Luckily, Thomas was still sound asleep, looking a lot more innocent than usual, younger almost, the lines on his face softer, not as visible. It was the strangest thing, to see Thomas Müller quiet, unmoving; it felt unsettling, and more than that, it felt intimate. The thought made Manu shiver. He turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling. He felt numb, almost, his head a mess made out of a pounding ache and disorganized thoughts, dominated by the one that had resonated through his mind ever since he’d opened his eyes: This shouldn’t have happened. It couldn’t have. With every memory that returned, it felt like there was a rope tied around his chest that got tightened more and more. Fear was creeping up his spine. Fear of the future, fear of the what-now, fear of rejection.

Last night, he’d let his guard down enough for his deepest desires to bubble up to the surface. He’d indulged them, reeled in the happiness he’d felt when Thomas had pulled him behind the lockers weeks ago, when he’d guided him away later that night. The lust and the feeling of being loved and desired as they’d kissed, as Thomas had taken him up to his room and everything that had followed; nothing he’d felt a few hours ago, not even those big, ecstatic feelings helped in diminishing the dreading, naked fear he was feeling now.

The cold fingers on his hip made him startle.

“‘re you awake?” Thomas asked, his words mumbled, blurring together, his voice deeper than usual.

When Manu turned his head to look at him, he almost flinched at the brightness of the other’s eyes. One blue, the other green-ish, scrutinizing, as if Thomas was staring right into his soul.

The younger furrowed his brows. “You’re not freaking out, are you?”

His fingers tapped against Manu’s side once, twice, before he removed them from his skin, both hands coming up to frame Manu’s face.

Manu shied away from the touch. He could see the concern in Thomas’ eyes, but it was the pity that made him pull away, shake those hands off (those wicked, talented hands, all over his body; caressing, loving), that made him pull his walls right back up.

He could see Thomas flinch as he pulled away, could see the hurt in his face, in the lines on his forehead deepening, but he still couldn’t stop his next words from leaving his mouth.

“This didn’t happen.”

He threw the blanket off, pausing at being faced with the literal naked truth of what they’d done – it had seemed less real, before, when the sheets had been hiding the reality, camouflaging it behind a soft cloud – before quickly getting up, not looking at Thomas again, not daring to. He swiftly picked up his clothes, carelessly thrown onto the patterned carpet, pulled on his underwear and his shirt.

He didn’t look back as he walked to the door. He half expected Thomas to call for him, yell at him, get up or prevent him from leaving. Yearned for him to grab his hand and pull him back into his body. It didn’t happen.

He didn’t slam the door behind him, but he had to take a ragged breath after it had closed shut. Only when he felt the sting in his eyes he realized that he was close to crying. Angrily he wiped away the tears with one hand before stomping down the hallway, pain flaring up from his hips with every step, making his cheeks burn with shame. He didn’t even notice when he almost run over a cleaning lady, nor the shocked look she sent after him.

By the time he entered his own hotel room, his bag sitting unopened in a corner where the hotel staff had dropped it off, Manu felt completely numb. There were tears on his cheek, even if he hadn’t realized he’d been crying after all.

He felt like flopping face-down on the bed, but somehow he didn’t even manage that. Instead, he just stood there, feeling more lost than he ever had. (Which was saying something, truly. Him and that feeling were kind of best friends at this point.) He didn’t really process how the rest of the day passed by, though some of it was spent over the toilet bowel, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of his hangover or because of the dread filling his stomach, bubbling up until it spilled over.

 

They had the next two days off until the next training session, preparing them for what hopefully would be the second title that season, and Thomas didn’t even try to contact Manu once.

A big part of him felt relieved. Maybe, he thought, ignoring your problems until they went away was a good tactic after all. But the tiny part that was left (the part of him that, as much as he like to deny it, was in love and that had finally been thrown a bone that fateful night) hurt. It hurt like crazy, and the thought that if nothing else, Manu had most likely ruined his friendship with Thomas – this wonderful thing his whole happiness had been built around lately, even if it was only the sweetest form of torture – made him feel like puking.

The day he had to return to the Säbener Strasse, that second feeling had pretty much overtaken everything. Thomas wasn’t there yet when he arrived; not surprising, since Manu was usually overly punctual, and even now, at his very worst, he couldn’t get rid of his habits.

At the actual training, they thankfully didn’t really cross paths, and during the one exercise the goalkeepers had to join the rest of the team, Manu pointedly stared at the grass, ignoring pretty much everything and everyone whenever he wasn’t focused on one of the balls coming his way.

By the time they were close to finishing, Toni seemed pretty annoyed with him, resorting to snapping his fingers in front of Manu’s face to get his attention. Manu only sighed quietly before squaring his shoulders, looking up at Toni and apologizing to him. The older man sent him a quite obviously concerned glance as an answer, but Manu didn’t feel like talking to him – or anyone, really, especially not someone who knew him as well as Toni did – so he just pulled a weak smile out from his sleeve before quickly shuffling away.

He took his time under the shower, having gotten a head start since he finished a bit early, pausing when he spotted a small purple-tinted mark on his hip. It was the only physical mark that night left behind, but somehow he was still able to feel Thomas’ fingerprints on his hips, his butt cheeks, his thighs; every time his own fingers touched his skin, he remembered his friend’s doing the same.

He felt his cheeks burn at the memories, the familiar feelings of shame, disappointment and hopelessness rising in his stomach, so he quickly finished off his shower before anyone had a chance to notice that he was acting strangely. He passed Mats and Thomas on his way out, and by the way they were talking and laughing everything seemed perfectly normal. Only when Thomas looked up, their eyes finding each other, could Manu see the storm raging inside of him. They were cold, unreadable, making Manu’s stomach churn. Quickly, he lowered his eyes again, hurrying past them.

His hands were trembling by the time he closed the door of his car behind him. He pressed them to his face, holding back a sob. By the time he took them off again, after what felt like hours but had probably been mere minutes, his face was wet with quiet tears. He sniffled, wiping them away with the sleeve of his jumper, trying to take a deep breath. It came out ragged and uneven, but it calmed his nerves at least a little bit.

Everyone had already left, apparently, since almost all cars were already gone. Including Thomas', Manu notices as he reared his head to check. He let out the weak chuckle at the thought of anyone having seen him like this – big brave Manuel Neuer, locked in his car, crying like a little boy. Somehow, he didn't find it in him to care. The motor howled loudly as he turned the key in the ignition, and he was sure he’d broken several speed limits by the time he finally arrived home.

  
The next few days passed in a similar manner. Training was dull, a routine that had lost almost all of its appeal for Manu, as all he did was fanatically focus on his exercises, trying to clear his head as much as possible, as well as avoiding Thomas, which in the end resulted in keeping his distance from pretty much all his teammates.

At one point, Joshua asked him if the two of them had had a fallout. Manu was pretty sure he’d scared the kid quite a bit when he’d snapped at him. He was also convinced that his snarled “everything’s fine!” hadn’t been that convincing at all.

By the fourth day, Thomas had had enough.

Manu had just been on his way down to the locker room, when someone grabbed him by the shirt, pushing him against the wall.

Thomas was clearly pissed, his brows furrowed, thin lips pressed together tightly, arms crossed in front of his chest. He looked furious, and goddamn, did he look gorgeous.

He let go of Manu’s shirt as soon as he picked up on the panicked look in the keeper’s eyes, but his eyes were still cold, the mismatched colours making them seem more intense than ever. Manu gulped.

“You’re really impossible sometimes, do you know that?!” Thomas ran a hand through his disheveled curls, messing them up further. It trembled slightly, but Manu couldn’t tell if it was because of anger or frustration.

“Oh, am I?” he asked, and immediately flinched at how cold and reproachful he sounded. He really had a talent for making things worse than they already were.

Thomas huffed, throwing his hands up. “Oh, if you want to be an asshole about this, then fine, by all means, go on! Just know that no matter how damn much you mean to me, I won’t just wait around forever just because you can’t make peace with yourself!”

Manu sent him a blank stare. He wanted to say something, tried the words out in his head; but they died in his throat like flowers in the frost. Instead, he crossed his arm in front of his chest.

Thomas huffed again, turned around, started to walk away, then stopped. The forward turned back to Manu, looking him up and down. The look in his eyes still clearly conveyed this new distance between them, but for a moment, Manu thought he could spot something else in them. Concern, regret. Regret about what?

Thomas sighed. “You know, it would be so much easier if you stopped being your own worst enemy.”

Manu didn’t budge as Thomas walked away, but his chest felt empty. As if Thomas had not only stolen his heart, but walked right away with it.

 

Later that day, he laid in bed again, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn’t been doing much else lately, apart from training. He startled when his phone buzzed next to him.

He didn’t want to pick it up at first. He had no idea what he’d do if it had been Thomas. After another minute and more buzzing, he finally picked it up.

_Idk what’s wrong with you and mull but its fucking with the dynamics of the team and i don’t like it_

Mats. Straight to the point, as usual with him. Manu managed a weak smile.

_It’s like seeing your parents get divorced, and were your children waiting to be told who theyre gonna live with. And lemme tell you at the moment pretty much everyone would prefer thomas because ngl you’ve been a bit of a jerk_

He made a face as the next messages came in.

_I have no idea what happened between you two but im sure its not as bad as you think. I mean this is thomas were talking about!!!_

_… I can see you reading this btw so don’t think ill let you get away that easily_

_Honestly. Sort it out. Itd be better for all of us_

Manu sighed, running a hand over his face. He put the phone down, turned his head to look out of the window. It was slowly getting darker. God, how long had he been lying here?

After two more minutes, he sighed again before starting to type.

_Okay._

_:D_ , Mats sent back, making him feel at least a tiny bit better.

 

In the end, it had probably been a stupid idea to go knock at Thomas’ door at this time of the day, in the state he was in. He was still only wearing his sweatpants and a baggy sweater, hood pulled up, and had quickly slipped into the first pair of sneakers he’d been able to find. He knew he looked a mess, but nothing to be done about that now.

He had a key to the house, actually, given to him by Thomas as soon as the younger had announced that he and Lisa thought they’d better start living in separate homes again, especially since, y’know, she had a boyfriend now. (“I’m not really fancying driving half an hour each time I can’t find my keys. And out of everyone here at the club, you're the tidiest person I know. Also it’s good knowing that I can always crash on your couch, if necessary.” It had been a compliment, served with a wink, but Thomas had still managed to make it sound like teasing. Manu hadn’t mentioned that he did have a guest bedroom, Thomas, actually.) But using said key felt wrong when it didn’t even feel like they were friends anymore.

So he rang the doorbell, like he hadn’t done in ages, and waited for Thomas to open as he realized that his clothes were a bit too warm for a summer night. ‘He might not even be home, you moron’, he thought, just as the door opened.

Thomas looked stunning. How that was possible wearing a dress shirt with an owl pattern and a pair of boring, normal jeans was beyond Manu, but he did. The last sunlight of the day was getting caught in his hair, making it look almost golden, and once Thomas’d realized who was standing in front of him, a smile found it’s way onto his lips, small, but it was there. Manu’s stomach lurched when he realized that he hadn’t seen a real, genuine smile from him ever since that night.

Thomas leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Well well well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

“You don’t have a cat,” Manu blurted out, startling an incredulous cackle out of Thomas, who then softly shook his head before waving him in.

“C’mon, I don’t think that my neighbours should get wind of our relationship drama, do you?”

They didn’t hug, which felt wrong, but Manu was already glad that the mood between them had loosened a bit again, even if he still vaguely felt like he was gonna be sick. He had kinda expected to be lead to the living room, instead Thomas simply closed the front door behind them before turning around again, facing him in the middle of the hallway.

“Did you really think you could avoid me forever? That’s so typical of you Neuer, letting yourself be guided by your stubbornness.”

Manu snorted before lowering his eyes, trying to look everywhere but at Thomas, putting his hands in his pockets. He flinched when suddenly cold fingers grazed at the skin of his jaw, only lightly brushing over it, as if for asking permission, before lifting up his chin.

“You’re a mess, did you know that?”

That startled a little laugh out of Manu, because boy did he know. He’d been a mess ever since Hannah Baumann had pushed her tongue into his mouth behind their school at the age of twelve and he figured out that if possible, he’d like to never kiss a girl again; but still did since it was what boys did, were expected to do. He’d become an even bigger mess when he’d drunkenly made out with one of his teammates – to this day he couldn’t even remember who it’d been – when he'd been eighteen and it changed his entire world.

He hadn’t kissed a guy ever since and he’d somehow discovered yet another level of mess when he’d realized he wanted to kiss this spindly-legged menace of a man more than a year ago. How they had, a few weeks ago, when they’d won the game that’d secure them the Liga title, finally shared that storybook first kiss that Manu had been longing for, even if it had been in a cramped space behind two lockers. Strange, how that kiss didn’t have nearly as much impact as their encounter at the Meisterfeier had had; how Manu had been able to blame it on the euphoria of the win instead of his silly, aching heart.

Thomas chuckled too, thumbing over Manu’s stubbly cheek.

“Yeah,” he faltered, pausing, gently turning Manu’s head so that they could look at each other. “What an amazing, beautiful mess you are.”

Manu smiled, tentatively, feeling his eyes water up, and goddamn, he’d cried more in this week that he had in his entire life. Thomas shortly returned the smile, some of the tension visibly falling off his shoulders. Somehow, Manu felt like things were going to be okay now, and it seemed like Thomas thought so as well. Still, the younger man's face become more serious again when he continued.

“But if you think I’ll let you get away with, what was it? ‘This didn’t happen’ – you’re severely mistaken.”

Manu lifted his hand, intending to push Thomas’ hand away, but that only prompted the latter to bring his other one up too, firmly placing it on Manu’s hip, warm and comforting in a way that made his body lean into the touch and his heart yearn.

“When we fell asleep and you nestled yourself into my arms, I was so sure that we could be something great. Didn’t you?” He looked hopeful in a way that took Manu’s breath away.

Manu cleared his throat, opened his mouth then closed it again. Thomas looked at him expectantly, with an understanding and patience in his eyes that made Manu want to cry.

His throat felt like sandpaper when he finally spoke. “I can’t have sex with you, Thommy.”

Thomas froze. “So you didn’t like it? Oh god, did you only come with me because you knew I wanted you to?”

Manu quickly shook his head. “I mean, I can’t have _casual_ sex with you.” His voice croaked and he looked away; he couldn’t face Thomas, not then, not even with their feet touching each other and Thomas’ hands still on his body. He felt tears well up in his eyes again, his vision swimming before him.

He trembled as thin but muscular arms pulled him in, gently laying his head down on Thomas’ shoulder, wrapping around him as if to protect him. Thomas stroked over his hair, somehow managing to support Manu’s significantly bigger frame all on his own, rubbing circles into his side, hushing him as Manu felt the younger’s t-shirt being stained by his tears.

Manu realized he’d never been held like that before. And it was that realization that made him sob into Thomas’ shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” followed by three other words, mumbled into his neck.

He could feel Thomas still, the hand on his hair freeze, the one of his hip unmoving. Manu stilled then, tears subsiding and giving way to a bitterness that spread through his entire body, realizing that he’d truly fucked it up now, before Thomas gently pushed him away.

“You – what?” He sounded incredulous.

Manu turned his head away, feeling one last tear drip down his face and angrily wiping it away with the sleeve of his hoodie, as he tried to step away from Thomas, whose hands kept him steadily in place.

“You love me?”

And well, what did Manu have left to do, but nod.

Thomas pulled away, turning around and put his hands behind his head, leaving Manu to himself, shoving his hands into his pockets. He could feel his mask slipping back on as his stomach sunk, felt how he was outwardly composing himself, trying to save what was left of his dignity.

He didn’t expect Thomas to turn back around, to latch back onto him, grinning so brightly he could outshine the last beams of light before dawn.

“And here I thought I was imagining things. Thank _God_ I don’t have to give you the ‘let’s stay friends’ speech, after all.”

“What?” Manu croaked.

Thomas chuckled before leaning in to steal a short peck of his lips, swiftly peppering little kisses all over his face; each of his cheeks, his nose, the rise of his eyebrows, before pulling away again, thumbing over Manu’s cheekbones. Manu didn’t move, frozen on the spot, his heart beating in his throat.

“I really like you too, you silly goose, which should have been apparent by the way I happily returned your advances, but it seems like that’s not clear enough for our dearest captain now, is it,” he teased. “Manu, you could never be just a one-night-stand for me. It was me who kissed you all those weeks ago. So I thought I’d give you space, time to process what happened. I didn’t expect you to be all over me at the party. I didn’t plan to take you up to my room. It just happened, and I’m not sorry it did.”

It took Manu a few moments to fully process that information, and by the time he did, Thomas was already busy sucking bruises onto his neck. Manu tried to suppress a moan.

“Now,” Thomas purred, pulling away just enough to look up at Manu, lacing their fingers together, “how about we continue where we left it off after the Meisterschaft?”

Manu nodded, breathless and already flushing, feeling hot, and it was like a dejà-vu when Thomas tugged him along into the bedroom, gently pressing him into the sheets, crawling over him.

But this time, he remembered every single thing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> * Title from Awolnation's _Like People, Like Plastic_
> * I don't know why Manu is crying that much, I certainly didn't plan it this way. (I just hope it isn't _too_ much)
> * (This was the closest thing to smut I've ever written, so I hope I managed to pull it off)
> * I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way
> 
> Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/)


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